by Rachel Angel
His words had me drawn in, making me feel like I was being sucked into his vortex. I had no control of my destiny.
“No one has ever satisfied my lust and hunger for you. I tried, and it never worked,” Ian said.
Everything he spoke was like glue and each word stuck to my soul and I couldn’t help but sense the anguish in them, the longing to have things make sense in a world that often made no sense at all.
“Then there you were, at the airport. So fucking beautiful and that spark that you’ve always had was still there. It gave me the first real hope I had in a long time. And then…” Ian stopped talking.
I wondered what came after the “and then,” but he didn’t want to say it and perhaps it wasn’t mine to know. What I did know was that Ian gave of himself to me 100% and I received it with guilty pleasure and most selfishly. The thought of anyone else experiencing him—ever—killed me.
Then we both exploded at the same time. Our hunger satisfied for now.
Ian rolled off me and lay down on his back, his hand on my thigh. I saw him staring at the ceiling and I looked up, seeing nothing aside from Venetian plaster and a ceiling fan, but in that ceiling, he seemed to find the place that he needed at that moment. But I wanted it to be in me, not some damn ceiling.
“Ian…” I paused, unsure of what to say. From the heart, not your mind, I thought. I breathed in and reached my one hand over his and began to trace on it softly, going over his veins as I spoke. “I’m so sorry you had all that pain… But you don’t need it anymore. You found me, again, and that’s because we were meant to see each other again. You don’t have to wear a mask. You’re beautiful just as you are.”
I rolled over and slowly slid the mask off, revealing the man I knew underneath it, as well as all the raw emotions that were on his fac. I saw fear and anger still, but I also saw hope and love. All of that was for me? I didn’t want to be so bold as to say so, but instinctually I knew that they were emotions that he’d never show anyone else, aside from me.
He still didn’t talk, so I continued. “Ian, I understand why you became The Masked Missile. I understand why you hid away from me, thinking I wouldn’t like who you became. Truthfully, I love who you are now. I love everything about you. It has nothing to do with looks or privilege; it has to do with you. I love you for you, Ian.”
I saw the tears in his eyes and he rolled to his side, too, and our chests, sweaty and warm, pressed against each other as he leaned in to kiss me. It was soft and tender, as if I was a fragile piece of china, and only when he pulled away did his lips travel to my ear where I couldn’t see his face. I heard his voice reveal his heart as he whispered, “I love you too, Ana.”
Chapter 21
Time went by and we made up for as much as we could within our limits. We talked and kissed and made love, not willing to be out of each other’s sight or reach. It was perfect, and it was bliss. And somehow, from exhaustion and a place of peace, we fell asleep. I only woke up when I felt Ian’s body sever from mine. I blinked as I took in the sight of the sexiest sight I’d ever awoken to – Ian lying buck naked next to me with a delicious large hard on that made my mouth water as I placed my mouth on it and began sucking him hard.
He groaned as all his muscles flexed, a beautiful sight of the most toned and smooth muscles fully naked and displayed for me to lick.
I licked his skin, while pumping his large cock with my hand, before sliding down on top of him, filling me to the brink with him before grinding my clit against him, clenching tight while riding him with long smooth strokes. “Ah Ana, you are one sexy vixen,” he groaned.
I increased my speed and felt myself build to an intense pressure inside, “You bring this out of me, Ian,” I said.
“I can’t hold on any longer,” he groaned.
“Take me,” I said. “Fuck me hard, Ian. Now!”
He took hold of my shoulders and flipped me over on my back effortlessly without pulling out of me and continued the rhythm of thrusting where I left off before yelling, “I love you so much Ana, my sexy vixen,” shuddered in me, as he came and pressed his finger against my clit to make me explode hard along with him at the same time.
When we were both sated and subsiding from our panting, he kissed me and said, “You are so incredible, Ana. I can’t get enough of you. But right now, I have to get to the gym.”
“Right now?” I asked. Of course, it was selfish. I knew he had a huge fight that night and I had a huge broadcast to do—my first one.
“Now,” he said. Then he said, “Stay.” I obeyed him, understanding that it wasn’t a plea as much as an expectation. It may have been the one and only time in my life when I didn’t feel like rebelling against an order. And it wasn’t the time to be stubborn, because there was no place that I would have rather been.
It felt to lonely in the bed without Ian there after he left so I got up and made my way to his kitchen, thinking that I’d surprise him by cooking him something. A master chef, I was not, but maybe I could draw on a few of the things I’d seen Pedro do. Don’t do it, don’t think of him, I cautioned.
I glanced up at the clock and saw that about two hours had passed. The elevator doors were opening and in walked Ian. When I looked at him there was a huge smile on his face. I looked down—I’d forgotten that I’d put one of his t-shirts on.
“You wear that well,” Ian said. “I’ve never seen my t-shirt look so cute on anyone.”
“Why thank you,” I said, doing a twirl while I held the spatula in one hand.
“So, is this a ‘yes,’” he asked.
I wrinkled my nose, confused. “What do you mean? A ‘yes’ to what?”
“To being with me. To moving in and living with me,” he said. He walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, his hands lifting up the t-shirt to find that I didn’t have my panties on. His fingers went right to my sweet spot and he wasn’t met with any resistance.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I asked while I gave a satisfied moan.
“Yes, I am,” he said. He picked me up and began to carry me down the hallway, taking a right into that special room. Then he said, “I know what I need to do in order to hear that ‘yes’ from you.”
Of course, I did know what he meant and knew that by playing dumb I was trying to buy time. I had officially run out of it, though. I had to say something. “Ian, I just moved here and it’s temporary and…” I saw his face fall in dejection. “Don’t get me wrong…”
He cut me off. “I get it. You’re just here for a few months…but that could change.”
“I don’t know that for sure,” I said.
“You would go back to LA if they asked you?” he asked me.
I felt like it was a loaded question, and it likely was. “That’s the home base for my job; I don’t get to call those shots,” I said. Now I was feeling a bit defensive. There I was, in his arms in the doorway of the bedroom and having this conversation.
“Would you give up your job for us?” Ian asked me. There was a bit of ice in his voice.
“Are you asking me to?” I asked. “Because Pe…” Now I shut up, clamping my lips so I didn’t say something I’d regret.
“This is about us—not him,” Ian said. His voice was controlled and he breathed in and then continued. “I know that I’d give everything up for you, Ana. I would give up my career for you and drop everything. Now that I’ve found you, I don’t ever want to lose you again. I’ve learned what it means to walk away for whatever reasons, but in the end, you’ll just feel empty inside. Is that what you want?”
“Ian…we just got back together and you’re asking me to what?” I felt panicked now, all feelings of emotional attraction under attack—like I was being manipulated.
“To be with me, Ana,” Ian said earnestly. “To marry me. To be my wife, as I am your husband. We’re not steps any longer, and I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you a second time.”
“Ian…”
“Oh Ana,” he said, kissing me o
n the lips and then pressing me more tightly into him. “Please don’t think too much about it. Just go with how you feel, how your heart feels. But I want to know. After tonight’s fight, I really want to know.”
I was dreading the fight, looking at The Masked Missile as the man I loved and seeing how the crowd was eager for an all out bloodfest—man versus man—and one of them barely walking out intact. Even Ian’s undefeated record didn’t comfort me. And as for reporting on this, how was I going to remain unbiased? Because, rest assured, I was very biased about who I wanted to win this epic pay-per-view battle.
Then there he was…walking like the champ he was, acting as if he owned the spot and making his way up to the fighting pit. His opponent was someone known as The Kid, an up and coming MMA fighter who had always given credit to The Masked Missile for being his inspiration. It had all the makings of a great story.
Ding.
The fight started and it was going well enough. Ian was easily taking The Kid to task and it looked like he might win on a TKO, but then the bell rang. Time for round two.
Round two went in a different direction, with The Kid showing up and delivering some lethal punches and Muay Thai kicks that looked like they’d crack a lack—even one covered in muscle like Ian’s was. And Ian was missing punches? He never did that. I’d seen hours of footage and it was never an issue. Why now? I wanted to scream, get your head in the game.
Then a thought hit me and I felt sick to my stomach. I’d heard endless trainers and coaches say that having sex the day before a big event was off limits—too mentally distracting and physically draining. Well, Ian and I had certainly had rapid fire hot and sizzling sex—eagerly and unapologetically. Now he was paying the price for it, though, and at the rate it was going, he’d be sorry for it and have his first loss ever. Shit! I should have thought of that. Ian should have, too.
Finally, without much effort, The Kid got Ian to the ground and held him until Ian tapped out. I could only watch, horrified about it all. That was it—the end of the fight. As the announcers called out The Kid’s name, the audience booed, completely disappointed in the lackluster fight. I couldn’t blame them, either.
I had to interview The Kid right away and it was a blur. I knew the questions like second nature and got through it. It was a good interview to the viewers, I knew, but my mind was saying, let’s get this over and interview The Masked Missile. Ian had better not back out on me!
He kept his word and the fans that had been filing out all stopped when they saw The Masked Missile standing by me on the jumbotron. An interview? I could hear everyone saying those words. You damn right, an interview, I thought. And boy did I have some questions for him.
“This loss is very unexpected. Any contributing factors to make it such a harsh loss?” I asked.
“Well, Ana, let me start by saying that I’m a huge fan,” Ian said with a smirk on his face. “But seriously, I’m happy for the new champ. The Kid won fair and square, and all I can say is, ‘it was worth it.’”
Ian grinned and looked at me. “I could’ve refrained and trained myself better last night, but it didn’t happen.”
“Why not?” I asked. Now I was asking loaded questions.
“You see, last night I connected with this particular person in my life and I wanted to spend time with her. It was worth whatever loss I had today to experience what I did yesterday. She is worth more than the championship to me, and I want to show her how much I truly love her.”
My eyes welled up with tears I was desperate not to shed. To most people, it would look like a sappy woman who was affected by such a confession—most would be. Knowing it was me was hard to process. He had given everything up just for me! How could he do that? He shouldn’t have.
Finally, I wrapped up the interview and turned to find the crowd clapping for The Masked Missile, led by The Kid. Then the announcer entered back into the ring and went to Ian. “So how about that? A true champion and man of heart—The Masked Missile! Can’t believe you gave up the championship for love. I think we’re all dying to know, who’s the lucky woman?”
Ian shook his head but the smile didn’t leave his face. “A very special lady, whose identity I want to keep private.”
Then there were cheers as I watched The Masked Missile walk out of the arena. I stood there, wondering why Ian had done all that. I never would have asked him to. And I wasn’t completely sure I was comfortable with it.
Epilogue
I was packing up my things and reviewing some of the video footage with the cameraman before leaving when my phone buzzed. It was Ian.
His text read: Meet me at my place.
My response was quick: Indeed. I want to talk with you.
A half hour later, I was impatiently waiting for the elevator doors to open up. For some reason, I felt angrier as the minutes passed by. The expectations he’d placed on me by blowing that fight intentionally made me feel like I was being manipulated, and I didn’t like it. It was flattering, sure, but I was not the type of woman who would expect anyone that I cared for to give up what was important to them. And in return, I wanted the same thing from them.
The doors opened and Ian was sitting on the couch, drinking a beer and had an ice pack on his hand. He also had a bruised cheek and he was lucky for that, because if he hadn’t, I halfway wanted to slap him right across it.
“Why did you do a dumb thing like that?” I asked, my hand on my hip. I was also a safe distance from him so he couldn’t grab me. I needed to focus and say what was on my mind.
“Like what?” he asked with a cocky grin.
He was playing with me! “Like giving up the fight for you to give me some proof you loved me? I didn’t need that and you shouldn’t have done that!”
“I’m glad I did it,” he said unapologetically. “If I hadn’t, I could have lost you. I know you aren’t going to give up your career. I thought about it last night and knew that even though it was the night before a fight and I shouldn’t have been with you, it would be worth it. I don’t regret it.”
The way he looked at me made me want to melt like chocolate in the desert sun. “Losing your title because of me is not healthy, Ian. I do not want to be the one to make you regret anything down the road. I didn’t ask for that burden and it was shitty of you to just give it to me.”
Okay, I was so riled up and the more amped up I got, the calmer he seemed to get. I couldn’t stand it and I found myself wanting to slap him, again.
“I wanted to, Ana, not just for you but for me. I’m giving this up so I can be with you. I don’t want to keep fighting forever, either. It was a means to an end and you, you’re the future. I want a life, a wife, children…”
“Ian…I’m…”
“You don’t have to marry me now, but eventually you will, and we’ll finally be together.”
“But won’t you miss being The Masked Missile?”
“Would it matter to you if I did?” Ian asked.
“No.” I stood there and watched him as he got up and set the ice pack down. He walked over to me and wrapped his arms around me. Then he kissed me urgently—it was the type of emotional kiss that revealed what the heart was feeling. I responded to it just as I did to the all out animal attraction kisses that he did. Yes, we were connected and no amount of denying and delaying would change that. I had to except it so I didn’t drive myself crazy and lose a good thing.
“Ana,” he whispered between kisses, “can you imagine a life without me? Without us? I can’t. You’ve always been there for me, through your emails, even when you weren’t there physically, as I have been there for you, listening. Now we can be here for each other for real—no barriers between us or excuses holding us back. Won’t you make it real for us, forever?”
He kissed me again and my lips couldn’t move—stuck between the kiss and the words he wanted to hear. He encouraged me on. “Just say ‘yes.’”
I had no reason not to, so I went with all the reasons on why I should. “Yes
.”
Weeks later at a Vegas drive-through wedding chapel, Ian and I got married in true Vegas style. Including, not even telling our parents until afterward. They were shocked and we each felt a bit of happy rebellion from it—what comes around goes around, if you will. And from that day on, we were an inseparable team, even at work.
Ian revealed who he was, which was a pleasant surprise to everyone with his good looks and sexy allure. He gained more fans because of his unmasking especially an increase in women fans. Amongst the women fans of the MMA world, Ian the Masked Missile was known as the Hottie and in some fan groups as the Hot Missile, which he laughed off. He finally received a nickname to match my ridiculous one. I was thankful that I wasn’t a jealous woman, because some of the parcels that came for him from his female fans were a bit too expressive of these women’s desires.
Ian’s fame shot up, and he became a heartthrob as well as a well-respected champion retired MMA fighter. A few months later, it was announced that I would be having a partner for MMA announcing—Ian, the newest sports MMA commentator. There we were—the ultimate team with the ultimate life. Getting where we were in love and in life was not as easy as it seemed, but it was worth it.
*****
More Standalone Books from Rachel Angel:
Bidding on the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaire Bachelors Club #1)
Movie Merger (Bad Boy Bad Boys Billionaire Bachelors Club #2)
Buying the Billionaire (Bad Boy Bad Boys Billionaire Bachelors Club #3)
Broken (Bad Boy Bad Boys Billionaire Bachelors Club #4)
Sign Up for News of The Love in Steps Standalones and the BBBBC and for announcements of the other books from Rachel Angel at:
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